


It's Cold Here Too

by gabrielthearchangelspn



Series: Midnight Drabbles [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fallen Angel Castiel, Fluff, Lots of crying?, Midnight drabbles, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, Take it as destiel if you want, idk how to tag stuff anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabrielthearchangelspn/pseuds/gabrielthearchangelspn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...that was what Castiel used to be. Holy. After the leviathan, the war in heaven, and purgatory, even after Metatron he questioned if that was true anymore."</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Cold Here Too

The church doors were dark brown with abstract designs carved into them. The church itself was simply small and almost completely painted white, or at least it was when it was first built. The building had probably been abandoned many years ago. As vines and roots had twisted their way through the walls and flooring inside and out. Most of the windows had been busted or were just too covered in dirt and grim to be seen out of. Several pews had been moved and misplaced and the wood was rooting away. 

The sight didn't stop the former Angel Castiel from taking a hesitate seat in the very back. He removed his beloved trench coat placing it over his lap. In nervousness he smoothed the fabric of his coat until it shaped around his thigh. He looked up at the cross hanging in the front of the church, but quickly looked down in shame. It'd been almost two years since he'd visited church, even though he'd lost his faith in God serval years ago he used to come to churches all the time. Always unsure if it was just to comfort himself and fend off the guilt or if he was searching for a sign.

The only reason he was sitting here now is because the Winchesters had ran off and left him behind in the motel room with a quick goodbye. Instead of sitting around and stewing in guilt and self hatred he decided to take a walk. The walk led him into a old forest where he followed a path that had led to this old church.

He stared at his shoes for a good half hour before he brought himself to look up again. To other angels this probably made him seem weak, to be afraid of the image of Jesus Christ. He wasn't really afraid though he just felt unworthy and unprivileged to see such a holy thing.

...that was what Castiel used to be. Holy. After the leviathan, the war in heaven, and purgatory, even after Metatron he questioned if that was true anymore. He supposed it wasn't. He always believed he had good intentions, it seemed no matter what he did his good intentions never seemed to end up that way. He sat in the old pew for a long time talking to the statue, talking to God. He told God about the Winchesters and becoming human and how horrible Metatron is. He wasn't sure if God existed anymore or if he cared but he talked anyways.

When he spoke about Naomi and Metatron he began to cry. For the first time in his existence. He cried for his lost grace, for the torment Naomi had put him through. He cried because he was fucking tired. He'd been alive for billions of years yet the last 5 years had been the most challenging and damaging. He'd fought in the Trojan War, and lived among the Early Americans, and the hardest thing he ever had to do was accept the fact he could no longer fly, even if he had his wings they were so broken that they wouldn't carry him more than a few yards. 

Loss had come to be the worst human emotions he'd ever felt, next to guilt and fear. After awhile the sun began to dim and a light purple lit the sky. He unfolded his coat from over his lap and put it on to push away the sudden coldness. As he was about to get up and walk out the door, but, someone opened the church door. A big wisp of cold winter-y air filled the abandoned building making him shiver. Castiel turned around to see Dean Winchester wrapped in his old leather jacket with his hands stuffed in his pockets, walking towards him. Dean took seat next to Castiel which made the pew squeak with the weight added.

Dean nervously glanced around the room, "it's cold in here too." He stated trying to loosen the awkwardness.

Castiel looked at him, "yeah" He said dully.

Dean laughed a little at that, "we'd better go back now before it snows then!" He said with a large smile. He noticed how red Castiel's eyes were. He wondered if he'd been crying, it was weird to think of the former angel as feeling that way. It unnerved him to think his fallen angel had been sad for awhile. He got up and started towards the door, Castiel following close behind. They walked out the door and Dean pulled the large wooden doors shut behind him.

As they made their way towards the motel it began to snow. Castiel's eyes filled with wonder. Dean had almost forgot he didn't often see snow. The redness of the crying had now begun to turn into a darker red due to the cold. As Castiel reached for the handle of the motel room Dean placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You know you can tell me anything right?" 

Castiel just nodded before opening the door to be greeted by Sam who shoved a beer in his hand and led him to the couch. He spent the rest of the night watching sports he really didn't understand, but it made him happy to see the reactions of the Winchesters. Even though he missed heaven and his wings, it was for the most part worth all the pain.

**Author's Note:**

> It was like 2 in the morning when I wrote this I'm sorry.


End file.
